Bare Feet
by Harry Fado
Summary: Puck doesn't know what he's in for when he gets up one morning, puts on jeans and nothing more and goes to the kitchen to get some juice. Established Relationship.


**Title**: Bare Feet**  
Author**: Fatebegins (http:// fatebegins .livejournal .com/)**  
Rating**: NC-17 / M**  
Pairing**: Puck/Kurt (Purt/Puckurt).**  
Summary**: Puck doesn't know what he's in for when he gets up one morning, puts on jeans and nothing more and goes to the kitchen to get some juice. Established Relationship.**  
Disclaimer**: No Glee don't belong to me or to fatebegins, this history is not mine! But I have permission to post it here! (The original post: http:// fatebegins .livejournal .com/12815 .html )  
**Warning:** Slash, explicit sex.

*'~'*'~'*'~'*'~'*'~'*'~'*

Puck rolled over under the sheets, still half asleep, his hand automatically reaching out to pull his boyfriend of three months closer to his side. It was no secret by now that Kurt liked his own space while he slept and tended to roll away from Puck's 'octopus arms'-Kurt's words, not his- in the middle of the night. It turned out, surprisingly, that Puck was the one in the relationship who was big on cuddling. Go Figure.

A frown marred Puck's sleepy features when his hand encountered cold sheets instead of Kurt's sleep, warmed body. He cracked open one eye reluctantly, just to make sure Kurt hadn't curled himself up at the edge of the bed but nope, his boyfriend's side was completely empty, even the sheets were neatly folded back up. Puck groaned, disappointed. His morning wood would have to wait. With some effort, Puck sat up rubbing at his eyes. The smell of bacon wafted in through the bottom of the closed basement door and Puck perked up immediately. Kurt must have woken up to make him breakfast. How sweet, Puck smirked. Kurt always got extra sentimental whenever he slept over.

After tugging on his jeans, and nothing else, Puck started up the stairs, his feet bare. Puck brushed his teeth hurriedly in the hall bathroom, if he was lucky he could still convince Kurt to fuck around a bit and morning breath would definitely not help his case. A wave of thirst directly accompanied brushing his teeth. Might as well go into the kitchen and get some orange juice Puck thought, maybe keep Kurt company while he cooked for him like a good little housewife. Puck contemplated the necessity of a shirt but then shrugged, deciding to go as he was. Burt was definitely at his tire shop by now, it was after all, after nine am on a Saturday and the shop opened at eight o'clock.

Puck wouldn't have found his shirt anyway, even if he had gone back downstairs for modesty's sake.  
When he reached the kitchen he saw that Kurt was wearing his oversized flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up over his slender forearms as he moved bacon slices over the hot pan with a fork. Puck's gaze slid lower, the flaps of his shirt barely covered Kurt's firm, little ass and it looked like his boyfriend was wearing nothing underneath.

"Hey wifey." Puck swatted Kurt's bottom playfully on the way to the refrigerator. Kurt jumped fixing him with an accusing glare. The younger boy looked fucking gorgeous, his mouth still pink and swollen from the kisses they'd shared last night; his hair tousled and inviting. Puck wondered idly of another pink place his cock had been buried deeply inside of. Good times.

"Don't call me that." Kurt turned back to the stove. "And who says I'm cooking for you anyway? I could be making this for myself."

"My princess eating dead pig?" Puck drank deeply from the bottle of Tropicana orange juice before wiping his mouth clean with the back of his hand. "You'd never let that touch your perfect lips. You're very particular about what goes in there." Puck joked as he put the orange juice back in the fridge. The entire time Puck's back was turned he waited for Kurt to say something back, insult him, be sarcastic, whatever but no response came. When Puck closed the door to face Kurt, he found his boyfriend staring at him, lips slightly parted and his breath coming hard. "Something wrong, babe?"

Kurt shook his head slowly, his eyes trained solely on Puck. "Nothing wrong."

"You're not going to bitch at me for drinking straight from the bottle?" Puck was surprised, wary at the look in Kurt's eyes. If he didn't know better he would think that-

"I want you to fuck me, right here." Kurt took a step towards him. "Right now."

_That_. That's what he had though Kurt was thinking. Puck gulped. Kurt wasn't a prude by no means, his boyfriend enjoyed sex and wasn't afraid to show it but Kurt was not the type of guy who looked up from cooking breakfast and started spouting porn worthy lines.

"You're serious?" Puck croaked, his mouth was suddenly dry once more when Kurt slid his hands up his bare chest, his manicured nails grazing Puck's flesh teasingly. "Not that I'm complaining but…in the kitchen, Kurt?

"Yeah." Kurt leaned back against the table, shoving place mats out of his way before pulling Puck down on top of him. "You fucking drive me crazy…seeing you like that."

"Like what?" Puck looked down at himself incredulously. "You mean in my jeans?"

Kurt nodded. "Nothing sexier than seeing my man in nothing but his Levis." Kurt nipped at his bottom lip hungrily. "_Nothing_." Kurt's hand delved down into the denim, his fingers circling Puck's engorged cock. He started jacking Puck off immediately, drinking in the older man's quiet moans.

"Fuck." Puck squeezed his eyes shut when Kurt flicked the head of his cock knowingly. "How do you want it?"

"Want you in my mouth, down my throat. Let me get you wet." Kurt moved off the table, going down on his knees, his tongue already lapping at Puck's swollen cock, drinking in the bitter, salty fluid hungrily. "Mm. Taste so good." Kurt murmured before pulling back only to swallow Puck down to the base; sucking hard. Kurt moaned and the vibrations strummed against Puck's flesh, driving him dangerously close to the edge. Puck swore when Kurt massaged his aching sacs, rolling the heavy flesh between his fingers as he suckled on the head of Puck's cock.

Slamming his palm flat down on the table, Puck struggled not to come from just the insistent pulls of Kurt's sweet mouth. He watched his boyfriends head as it bobbed up and down on his cock feverishly, his wet skin disappearing into Kurt's wide stretched mouth. Puck reached down and tightened his hand in Kurt's chestnut locks, pulling him back forcefully. "You keep that up and it'll be over."

"You don't wanna come in my mouth?" Kurt gave him a sultry smile, licking his lips. Puck followed the movement, his dick aching.

Puck shook his head no, pulling Kurt to his feet and crowding him against the table. Puck groaned when he felt Kurt's cock press against him. Keeping their eyes locked, Puck moved his hand up Kurt's pale, toned thighs. Puck felt like all the air had been knocked out of him. The little tease was wearing no underwear. Puck trailed a finger up to Kurt's hole, pushed the tip inside. Kurt was still loose from last night; waiting slick and ready.

"You wanna come in my ass?" Kurt smirked back at him, opening his legs to pull Puck in between.

Puck rocked his hips against Kurt. His arousal was almost painful "What do you think?" Puck's voice came out weaker than he would like, laced with want.

"I'm still open from last night, still stretched from you big cock." Kurt said huskily, his legs lifting up to hook around Puck's waist. "I bet you could fuck me right here, on the table."

"Oh yeah?" Puck was panting by now, the rough slide of flannel against his erection was making his skin hot. Kurt's jagged rhythm against him was driving him insane.

"Oh yeah." Kurt moaned then turned around, flipping up the flap of Puck's shirt. His upturned ass faced Puck. "But it'll be a tight fit." His blue eyes stared into Puck's wantonly as he looked over his shoulder back at him. Puck looked at Kurt's pale cheeks, saw a glimpse of his pink, puckered hole between them. Seeing Kurt's head bowed in submission as he braced his hands against the edge of the wooden table, snapped Puck into action.

Shit. Puck hadn't even known it was possible to be this hard. Puck's hands went to the waist band of his blue jeans, but before he could pull the material down, Kurt's voice stopped him. "Leave the jeans on."

Puck shrugged and obeyed the bizarre request, he would've done anything Kurt asked of him in that moment. Whatever would get his cock buried deep inside that tight, hot hole. He came up behind Kurt, kicked his legs farther apart, leaving Kurt spread wide open for the taking. Puck took himself in hand, and brought his cock to Kurt's twitching entrance, smearing pre come down Kurt's crack. He pushed part way in, the bulbous head of his cock stretching Kurt's rim and Kurt flung his head back, moaning loud and low.

One hand pressed down between Kurt's narrow shoulder blades, holding the soprano immobile as Puck worked his way in, in short, shallow thrusts, careful not to hurt his boyfriend. Kurt gasped, getting used to the length and thickness of Puck's hot flesh splitting him open. Each time Puck fucked him, there was always a moment of doubt within Kurt, that he couldn't physically take Puck's big dick. But every time Puck proved him wrong, ramming in to the hilt, making Kurt take it.

"Fuck!" Kurt panted for breath, the minor discomfort was gone completely now, and his hips rocked back to meet Pucks vicious thrusts; to fuck himself on his cock. "So good." One hand reached behind him to grip Puck's pumping hips. His fingers slid against the sweaty flesh, his nails marking Puck , leaving deep red stinging lines in their wake.

Puck growled deeply, pushing Kurt roughly against the table as he snaps his hips harder, plunging deeper into Kurt's yielding channel. He urged Kurt's leg up and unto the table top, impaling him unto his dick. Puck gritted his teeth and changed the angle, smiling when Kurt fell apart as soon as he found his prostrate. "Ohgodohgod… oh._. fuck_yeah.."

"You like that?" Puck asked heavily into Kurt's ear, crouching low as he rode Kurt hard. "Like me fucking your tight ass?"

"H-harder." Kurt urged his knuckles white against the table edge. Puck began to shove into him desperately, the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. The table legs scraped against the floor, propelled forward by their movements. Puck didn't even blink an eye when the salt shaker rolled off the table and shattered. Kurt didn't even seem to notice, too busy mewling his pleasure through pleas.

Kurt clenched down on Puck, milking his cock as his orgasm tore through him. Puck fought the urge to come even as he reached for Kurt's cock, jacking him hard through his orgasm. Kurt collapsed forward, his body shivering as Puck pounded into him. A dozen jagged thrusts later and Kurt felt Puck explode inside of him, flooding him with hot come. It was almost enough to make Kurt come again. He loved feeling Puck's come in him; relished the dirty squelch of Puck thrusting even as he filled him to the brim.

Kurt loved it almost as much as he loved Puck in jeans and bare feet.

*'~'*'~'*'~'*'~'*'~'*'~'*

Fifteen minutes later, Puck and Kurt had tided themselves up as best as they could. Kurt ran off momentarily to the basement, only to come back clad in Pucks black boxers. Since the bacon was burnt to an unappetizing charcoal, Puck had opted to eating a bowl of Cap'n Crunch instead, watching amused as Kurt opened up all the windows, trying to ventilate the kitchen.

"Morning boys." Puck's spoon froze in midair at the deep voice. Holy shit, Burt Hummel was standing at the door.

Burt padded sleepily into the room, unaware of the hysteria his presence was provoking. Most likely the older man was more asleep than awake. His face still bore imprint lines from his pillow. "You sure are over early, Noah." Burt yawned and tightened his robe.

Puck could only stare at Kurt, panicked. They had though Burt was at work. The only reason Puck had even slept over was because he knew that Burt would be long gone come morning. Thank God, Burt was too busy sleep walking his way through making coffee to notice their looks of shared alarm.

"Where's that bacon I smelled? Thought I'd try some." Burt asked Kurt. "Bet it's good."

"It's…um , it's on the stove." Kurt gestured weakly. Puck stared at Kurt's exposed white neck, the skin littered with fresh hickeys and bite marks. Burt Hummel was going to crucify him. Kurt's hand went to his neckline, buttoning the top of the shirt hastily. "But Dad, bacon is really not good for, you shouldn't be eating so much fat and sodium-

"Well, I heard you yelling about how good it was." Burt peered into the frying pain. If possible Kurt turned crimson, Puck knew instinctively that Burt had heard Kurt's praises while they'd fucked on the kitchen table. The same table that Burt was now placing his coffee mug down on . Kurt looked like he was about to pass out.

"We were just…"Kurt's cheeks reddened. "Playing around."

"You must like it extra crispy." Burt eyed the burnt strips disbelievingly. "These are burnt to a crisp! " He looked at Puck. "You must have really enjoyed your bacon."

"Oh, you have no idea Mr. Hummel." Puck replied. He couldn't resist, even knowing that the outcome of his joke would be certain death he still couldn't stop his flippant response. Kurt glared at him but Puck could see the beginnings of laughter at the corners of his mouth.

"What are you talking…"Burt's eyes narrowed, going from Kurt's red bitten lips to Puck's bare chest then back to his son's state of undress. His eyes widened comically, his face turned bright red with rage. Puck could see the exact second when he put all the pieces together. "PUCKERMAN!"


End file.
